


The 49th Hunger Games

by MyChemicalMurder



Category: Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins, The Hunger Games (Movies)
Genre: 49th Hunger Games, Careers (Hunger Games), District 5 Hunger Games, Hunger Games, Hunger Games Tributes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-19
Updated: 2016-03-20
Packaged: 2018-05-27 16:10:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 8,997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6291133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyChemicalMurder/pseuds/MyChemicalMurder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Another year, another Hunger Games. Nem only entered her name 6 times, and living in District 5, the odds of even being chosen in the preliminary draw is slim. There's nothing to worry about, she won't get picked. </p><p>Follow the District 5 Tributes through the 49th Hunger Games.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. District 5

Chapter One

‘Wake up.’ I open my eyes and squint as my mother draws back the curtains.  
‘Come on, wake up!’ I sit up and groan as I force myself to push back the covers and sit up. My mother brushes my long, slightly tangled back hair from over my eyes with her hand.  
‘Its not going to be you, there are so many of us, it’s not going to be you.’ She places a hand on my shoulder and smiles sympathetically. I hear my younger brother call mother from the other room. She glances towards the door before squeezing my shoulder and going to comfort my brother, who I now hear crying softly to himself, trying to put on a brave face. It’s reaping day.

I pull on my grey work clothes and goggles and fetch my gloves, and tie my hair up into two buns, before leaving my small house and walking down the street, dodging past other people on their way to work.

I enter my electricity dock, and state my name.  
“Nemesia Audra” I state loudly into the voice recognition sensors, while the facial recognition scanner simultaneously shines it’s bright light into my eyes.   
‘I don’t know why you bother signing in, we can see you a mile off.’ The woman behind the desk says before glaring at me and saying. ‘How come you and your mother have red hair? Its strange, very strange.’ I shoot her a look before turning my back and walking towards my station. She smiles a smug smile as I leave.   
Everyone in District 5 has blonde hair and brown eyes, everyone that is except my mother and I. Despite being names after a bright orange flower, I’ve heard all the nicknames my classmates have teased me with, carrot, orange, ginger, the usual. I just find them funny as almost nobody in the district would even recognize an orange if they had the good luck to be able to afford one. 

I stand by my station, and I’m about to put on my gloves and goggles, but the dock leader says, “Attention this way please. Turn your machines off.’ We all look towards the front. Elysia stands on a raised platform in front of the 200 or so workers in Dock 14 as we stand in silence, waiting.  
“As each of you know, because there are so many of us here in District 5, we only take 20 boys and 20 girls from each Dock to be in the reaping. So please, listen up!’ I listen closely as she starts reading the names grimly, sending her workers to the slaughterhouse. 

‘Number one, Ash Raiden, Number 2, Oliver Veton,’ The noise fades out and everything blurs, but I am violently pulled back to reality when she says,  
‘Number 37, Nemesia Audra’. I sigh. Perfect. I pull my goggles down over my eyes before contuniuing with my work, rationing the electricity we create between the outer Districts, with 12 getting only the last couple of hours, while the Capitol hogs the rest for their celebrations and 24/7 Hunger Games coverage. The bell for 11 O’clock sounds. Time to get ready for the reaping.

I sign out and my thoughts turn to Sebby. I don’t know if mother could cope with both of her children being in the reaping. I look around and see him standing on a small patch of grass, one of only few patches that surround the town square in an attempt to make District 5 look presentable for the Reaping.   
‘Sebby! Sebby come here!’ He looks down at his feet. My heart skips a beat as I expect the worst. “You didn’t get picked did you?”  
He looks up at me, eyes glossy with tears, and replies, “No, but you did… I heard from one of the ladies from your Dock.” I look at him, relieved he wasn’t picked, glad I didn’t have to tell him I was, and grateful mother won’t have to prepare to sacrifice two children. I wrap my arms around him and give him a comforting squeeze. “Please don’t get picked Nem, It’s not fair!” I hug him even tighter and tell him, “I know, I won’t. I promise”. After all, at the age of 17, my name is only in there six times, I work, as do my mother and father. We’ve been lucky enough never to need tesserae, so as the odds go, I’m safer than most.


	2. I know, I won't.

I walk into the kitchen in my reaping dress, it’s white and a little bit too small. I look in the mirror and fiddle with my hair, which is now hanging down past my shoulders, and pull at the hem of my dress. Another hand tugs at the bottom of my dress. It’s Sebby.  
“Nem, I can’t do the buttons…” His shirt is open at the bottom, and the buttons he managed to do himself are in the wrong holes. I grin and undo his shirt, pull at the collar, and re-button it up properly. 

“Why are you all dressed up?” I ask, and he looks up proudly, before saying, “Last year, a boy volunteered for that boy that wasn’t right, so if you do get picked, I can volunteer for you! ‘ His face brightens at the thought of saving his sister, I give him a small smile and kneel down.  
“Sebby, boys can’t volunteer for Girls, like girls can’t volunteer for boys. It doesn’t work like that.” He looks sad and his voice fades. “But I wanted to make sure you would be okay...” He says wiping his face with his sleeves. I Look at him reassuringly and wipe away his tears with my own sleeve.  
“I’ll be okay, they won’t pick me. Its fine.” I hug him and flatten his wild blonde hair down. “Now I look just like dad.” He smiles up at me.  
“Yes you do!” I say before pinching his cheek, making him smile even more. His smile is cut off when the loud clang of the bell rings through the district. It means I have to go to the square for the reaping.


	3. The Reaping

I hold Sebbys’ hand as I walk into the square. He grips onto my hand so tight I have to pry his fingers off my own and try to convince him to stay with mother. ”I’ll see you afterwards okay?” My words seem to calm him a little and he grips onto mother’s hand instead. I queue up to have blood samples taken, yet another way the Capitol keeps track of it’s subjects and shows us who is in control and in charge. I smile at Sebby, who is still clinging to mother, before standing with my age group and waiting for the show to begin. As a few stray spectators arrive, Oriana, the District 5 Capitol representative, hops onto the stage and taps the microphone before letting out a pleased humming noise as a final check. “Welcome, Distrct 5, to the 49th Annual Hunger Games!” Oriana says. Everyone is silent. The air is tense and you can tell Oriana feels uncomfortable under the harrowing glare of the District. She makes a nervous high pitched noise, as if her next line of speech got caught in her throat. She lets out a hesitant ‘Um’ before turning around to the large screens behind her. The dull propaganda video telling us the history of Panem and how the Games were created begins, President Snow’s voice filling the previously silent air. Once the video is over, the attention turns back to Oriana who pulls down on the hem of her skirt, as if trying to dry her palms on the silky fabric. 

She teeters back up to the microphone, clasps her hands together and continues. “For all of I who don’t know, my name is…” She takes a huge breath and flings her hands into the air and squeals “ORIANA ZENOBIA!” and claps her hands. The District remains silent and the short moment of confidence and excitement Oriana displays is once again taken over with awkwardness. She lowers her arms again and gives a quiet cough to clear her through. She teeters over to the reaping bowl, drops her hand into the girls bowl, digs to the bottom and pulls out a name with a gasp. 

She walks back over to the microphone, and slowly opens the paper. She gives another shaky ‘um’ noise before holding the paper up to her eyes.  
“My female tribute is….” I look towards the front as she says “Nemesia Audra!” I hear Sebby cry out in the background, people shift around me. I stay still. Zoned out. I stare at the blank screen waiting for the reaping to finish, so I can go home to family. I only realize what is happening when I feel a shove on my back, pushing me forward. I hear Oriana’s voice again.  
“Nemesia Audra? Where are you darling?” Seriously? Out of all these people and I get chosen. Typical. I turn around to Sebby and smile. I take a few steps forward and then it hits me. The sarcasm and the tough front wear off as I realize what is actually happening. I climb onto the stage and try and keep my face void of emotion as if I couldn’t possible be bothered that I’m about to be sent to my death, but I’m physically shaking. I must look a mess. 

When I am onstage Oriana puts her arm around me and says “Hello Nemesia Audra!” She puts her hand out to the audience and says “District 5, please give a round of applause for Nemesia Audra! Lucky, lucky you!” Everyone stays silent, except a few of the younger ones faintly clapping before being hushed by the older reaping attendees. 

She lets go and leaps over to the boys reaping bowl, suddenly filled with confidence now another person is onstage with her. She picks out yet another name with the same dramatic gasps and gestures, and bounds back over to the microphone next to where I am standing. She leans forward opens the paper, takes another large breath and says, ‘Joshua Thorne!’ A small boy, no more than 14, walks slowly onto the stage pushing through the crowd. He tries to make a tough expression but the tears are forming in his eyes.   
I look at him, taking him in as Oriana says, “Okay you two, now shake hands!” We shake hands awkwardly, his hands are clamming and mine shake, resulting in a slippery mess of a handshake which shows how obviously terrified we both are. Oriana leads us inside and we split up into two separate rooms. I sit on a large chair which I think is made of silk. It’s smooth and shiny, and I find it hard to sit on the chair without sliding off.

‘You have 5 minutes’ A peacekeeper says as he opens the door. My dock leader Elysia walks in quickly and pulls something silver out of her pocket.   
“This is for you.” She presses a metal tag into my hand. I look up shocked and close my hand tightly around the tag. “We were going to make you leader of Dock 14” I glance at the tag which reads ‘LEADER D14, AUDRA’. Mother would have been so proud. I hear the door squeak open and peace keepers take Elysia’s arms and pull her towards the door.   
“You have to beat them Amber” She shouts as she struggles against the peacekeepers.  
“I Wi-“ The door slams shut before I can finish. 

I’m left in silence for a matter of moments before the door opens again and my mother and my little brother come in. Sebby stomps over, a cross expression on his face before grabbing my dress and pulling on the hem hard. “You said you wouldn’t get picked! You promised!” I remove his grip from the dress before he can rip it and pull him into a hug.  
“I know, I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.” I say quietly into his ear. I keep him in a hug and reach out a hand to my mother who grasps it tight. I tell her I was promoted to Dock leader and she squeezes my hand, not able to say anything.  
“Tell father I love him and I’ll be back soon” I say, though we both know I’m lying.  
A peacekeeper walks and in orders everyone to leave. Sebby starts screaming, “You have to win! You have to!” before the door slams shut, and I’m left in silence again. I let my last few tears out and try and calm down before the cameras are shoved back in my face for the ride to the train station. I try and keep a blank face, buy Joshua’s soft sobbing sets me off half way to the station and I try and hide my face until I’m safely on the train, away from the prying eyes of Panem.


	4. The Capitol

The train journey to the Capitol is slow and silent. I don’t talk to Joshua, all he does is cry so I feel like trying to ally with him is pointless. I enjoy the food though, warm bread rolls, rich and creamy soups made of exotic vegetables like tomatoes and other things we couldn’t possibly grow in the cold hard ground of District 5. My favourite is a small cake made of chocolate, a luxury I only get once a year on my birthday. When you dig your spoon into the centre of the cake, molten chocolate spills out from the centre, coating the rest of the cake in a delicious warm and decadent sauce. When we pull up to the station, we are quickly ushered away and taken to our prep teams. I feel self-conscious lying on the cold metal table completely naked, while three strangers prod and poke and my pale, freckle covered body, and I feel sick and decide eating three of those delicious chocolate cakes along with soups, bread, stews, and multi-colored drinks was a bad idea. Once my hair had been washed and dried and I’ve been scrubbed head to toe and and there is not a single unwanted hair left on my body, I am taken upstairs to see my stylist for the tribute parade. I’m left waiting for a long time; I’d say over two hours. I’m offered food but even thinking about more overly rich food is making me want to vomit. When the doors to my dressing room finally swing open, a small, slim woman with olive skin and even redder hair than mine scuttles in, wobbling slightly in her heels, and slams down a huge folder on the table, sending the contents scattering across the glass table. She sighs and gathers them and tries to clip them back into the folder as quickly as possible.   
‘Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry I’m late. You know what it’s like.’ She chirps, still fiddling with the huge folder on the table. I shake my head slowly, not really understanding what she meant. She tilts her head before smiling at me.  
‘Well Nemesia, that’s you’re name isn’t it? It’s not pronounced like, sorry. My name is Gemima. You can call me Gem if you want. It’s up to you really, I don’t… sorry I’m talking too much. I do it all the time you know? Oops there I go again!’ She giggles nervously before opening her folder, only making eye contact for a few seconds at a time.

I stare at her while she fumbles about, pulling pieces of paper from the folder and splaying them out across the glass table even though she’s only just clipped everything back into place. I look at some of the pieces of paper, covered in designs.  
‘Ah! Here we are!’ She pulls out a piece of paper and lays it on the table, trying to rub out some of the creases with her hands. Drawn on the paper is a figure wearing a long gold dress. It has skin coloured mesh with gold twine threaded through it to replicate bolts of electricity. The dress reaches the figures ankles and written in capital letters next to the dress is ‘SPARKLE!’. To add to the costume, there is a headdress, made with more gold fabric. It sits on the head like a crown and has more of the gold twine hanging down the back, which twists into the hair of the figure. To finish it off, there is a beautiful looking gold cape that shines even in the drawing. This too reaches the ankles and would look beautiful flowing behind a tribute on a chariot. It looks great on this beautiful tall curvy figure, but I’m not sure it will look to great on a 17-year-old girl with the figure of a 12-year-old boy. I cross my arms over my flat chest and blush, slightly ashamed that I might have screwed up Gem’s design by not having the right body type.  
‘It’s covered in sequins too! You’ll sparkle like a live wire! Wait, it is electricity from your District isn’t it?’ She asks worriedly. I nod and push the design away.  
‘Well come on then! Time to get you ready!’ Gemima giggles and takes my hand and pulls me off the table.


	5. The Parade

I stand by my horse; ready for the tribute parade. I glance around to see other tributes looking uncomfortable in their ridiculous costumes. I feel like an idiot, and I think Joshua does too. I see him pull and fidget at his shirt, much to the disgust of his stylist. I’m hit with a pang of jealousy as I see the District 1 tributes. A slender girl and well built boy dressed in beautifully made silver jumpsuits with that shine with diamonds as the move. They look regal, they look like they belong here, and they look like they will actually stand a chance at being sponsored. Of course, they’ll get sponsors just because they are Careers’, and because they’re from District One, the District most likely to win.

Oriana jabs me in the back.   
“Come on Amber! 10 seconds until we’re on!” She pushes me towards the chariot that Joshua is already waiting on, looking just as nervous and teary as he was at the reaping. As soon as I’m on the chariot the doors to the parade circuit open and the District 1 horses trot away. That’s when the nerves kick in. I grip onto the bar of the chariot as the horses pull into motion and head out in front of thousands of Capitol citizens. I look over to Josh who is also clinging on for dear life and trying not to let the motion of the chariot knock the tears out of his eyes. I decide to release the bar with one hand and I wave nervously. As the horses do a final circuit into the round courtyard for the presidential speech, I get to see the other tributes in their glory. More ridiculous costumes. The tributes from 11 are just wearing brown leotards and have twigs sticking out from their hair. The tributes from 4 are dressed as odd fish-human hybrids, with scales covering their legs and shells on their headdresses. Of course, the most ridiculous of all is District 12. For the third year running, they are totally naked, and painted black as coal. Surely they would have replaced their stylist by now?

The President welcomes us, but I blank out most of the speech. I’m too busy watching the glimmer and sparkle from the cape of the District 1 girl. The diamonds look so real but they seem to be suspended in mid air, not attatched to any fabric, yet they move at the slightest breeze, making them shift and catch in the lights. Once the speech is over, the horses do a final lap, and we pull back into the stables and climb off the chariot. I try to wander over to see the District 1 tributes, but before I even take a step towards them, Oriana grabs one of my hands and pulls both Joshua and me towards the elevator. She jabs a button with her long manicured nails and we going whizzing up to the 5th floor. As the doors open she storms out and slams her hand on the glass table.  
‘Good job, Marina. Thanks for outshining my tributes!’ She continues to stomp around the apartment, mumbling and cursing to nobody. I glance around at the amazing room. Crystal chandeliers and glass table wear. Velvet furniture and fur rugs scatter the living room. I’m not hungry, after gorging myself on the train, I only pick up a few rolls and another chocolate cake and try to locate my room. I go towards a purple door and push it open. It reveals plush looking bedroom, with a large bed, and adjoining bathroom. I turn and see that the wall to my left is a giant window, looking out towards the Capitol skyline. I pull off my costume and lay on the bed naked, not wanting anything touching my body after this horrendously long day. Was it only this morning I was working at my Dock? The train journey only takes a couple of hours, so I didn’t even get a chance to sleep, everything happened all at once. I finish the cake but only eat a couple of the rolls I took. I stare out the window for a couple of minutes before I reach over and turn the light off and shut my eyes. I’m asleep with in seconds.


	6. The Training

I’m woken by Oriana’s shrill voice, followed by something being thrown at my face.  
“Wake up! Wake up Amber! Training starts in an hour, unless you want to starve I would hurry up and get dressed!” I let out a shriek, realizing I’m still naked and I didn’t even cover myself with a blanket. She rolls her eyes and slams the door behind her. I sit up in bed and cover myself with a pillow. I look at what was thrown at me; a silver tunic with black leggings. It has ‘5’ pinned to the front on a grey square covered in sequins. Great. Not only did I look like an idiot in the parade, I also have to look like an idiot in training. I go to the wardrobe to the side of the room and find a black long sleeved t-shirt and put that on with the black leggings instead. As soon as I leave my room I am ushered straight back in again by Oriana to get changed into my silver tunic, but I keep the black t-shirt on underneath. I eat a small breakfast of bread and an apple; I choose not to gorge myself, otherwise I’ll only miss the food when I’m in the arena. Joshua joins me and once we have eaten Oriana ushers us into the elevator again. We travel down into the basement, the doors open to reveal a huge room. It has pieces of equipment strewn around, and even though we are on time, there are already four or five people here. The Careers, probably. Oriana pushes us forward before pressing another button and shooting back up in the elevator without us.

As we all stand in a circle, I finally get to see all the tributes. I was right about who the careers were; the tributes from one and two. Usually there are careers from District 4, but this year it was just some curly haired short kid and a tall, but fairly week looking girl.  
When we are released, I go straight over to the plant identifying station, while the rest of the tributes below trained with knives, and swords. I use this time not only to make sure I know which plants are edible. I don’t know how to hunt, and I won’t be getting any sponsors, so I think plants will be my main source of food, and I don’t want to be taken out by a misidentified leaf. The careers don’t do anything of much use, they just show off with knives or swords. I look up to the Gamemakers, who of which, only one was paying attention to us, and the tributes he was looking at were the girl and the boy from District One. I sigh and turn away, before I see something move above me. A small girl with caramel coloured skin sits quietly in the corner, tying knots, every now and then glancing at two careers attempting to start a fire by hitting two stones together in the air and getting a small spark every now and then. I was getting bored, but I don’t want to move stations and face the other tributes so I remain where I am until lunch.

While the careers are busy playing with the weights, I decide to move on to the weapons section, and browse through the knives, and arrows, throwing blades, and spears, a whole selection of lethal items to choose from. I find a small knife, small but very sharp. I balance it in my right hand, and wander over to a target. I breathe deeply and tense up. I hold up the knife and throw it. It whizzes out of my hand and it goes straight past the target and hits the wall behind, startling the District 2 girl who was gazing at her District partner lovingly, just next to the target I missed. She turned quickly and pulled a knife out of her waist band threw it at the target next to my head, and laughed at me when I screamed and jumped back away from it. I heard she was best with a sword, not these dainty knives. I guess she’s one to watch out for.

When I get back to floor five, I sit and eat dinner with Joshua and Oriana and the stylists. I notice a new face at the table. It’s Etta, the only surviving District 5 victor. He won the 9th Games 40 years ago when he was 18. Now almost a 60 year old man, he’s done well to survive this far. The death rate in District 5 isn’t as bad as the other Districts, but most only live to 50 because of the exposure to various electricity forming methods, like dust and smoke inhalation from the coal generators for the outlying districts, or radiation from the nuclear reactors for the Capitol. I’ve only just realised he hasn’t been here for the last couple of days.  
“Sorry I’m so late, I had an issue at home. Everything is sorted now”. I know his wife is ill and he has no one to look after her. I didn’t think the President would let him come late? He’s probably lying about his ‘home issue’. It’s never that simple. He discusses what has happened so far, and if Joshua and I want shared mentoring. I say no straight away, and Joshua’s tears start again. Etta ignores him and asks us what are strengths are. Joshua chokes through his tears that he can run fast but that’s about it. Etta doesn’t look impressed.  
“I’m good at camouflage” I said sarcastically. My red hair is a ‘Come and get me! Here I am!’ sign that is permanently attached to my head. Etta shoots me a look that says ‘Don’t joke. You’re life is at risk’. As if I didn’t know. But If I’m going to die, I at least want to fill my last few days with a little humor. I finish the purple potatoes in wine sauce and odd looking meat with tiny vibrant orange carrots, and take the purple and blue trifle into my room to eat, as Etta is now refusing to talk to either of us. He was better of staying at home. I take off my clothes and change into some blue silk pajamas, I’m not going to be seen naked again when Oriana wakes me. I sit and stare out of the window for a long time, staring at the sparkling lights and seeing the shadows of Capitol citizens moving behind the curtains in their homes, imagining their lives. Having enough to eat, always having electricity. Being able to sleep at night knowing their children will always be safe from the barbaric Hunger Games. My eyes lose focus and my eyelids become heavy. I lie down and place my head on the soft pillow, and stare out the window a little more before sleep finally cradles me into it’s arms.


	7. What about intelligence?

I am woken by the thud of clothing hitting my back and Oriana slamming the door behind her. I’ve decided I definitely don’t like her, not one bit. But of course I don’t, she’s from the Capitol, she’s one of the many people taking delight in my imminent death. I drag myself out of bed, dreading going back to training, I’m sure the career pack have it in for me after I threw a knife at one of them yesterday. Even if it was an accident, I’ll be high up on their hit list. I get dressed and tie my hair in a ponytail and walk into the main room and grab an apple from the huge fruit bowl at the centre of the crystal table before throwing myself onto the huge plush sofa. ‘You can’t do that! Sit at the table properly!’ I hear Oriana shriek behind me before she grabs the back of my tunic and pulls me over back over to the table. She pulls out a chair and pushes down on my shoulders until I sit. She trots away muttering about manners. I eat some eggs with a tangy red sauce, and drink some orange juice, a luxury I’ve never had before. It’s quite sweet but I like it. Joshua sits at the table staring at a plate of bread. He’s pale and seems totally disconnected from the real world. It must be dawning on him that we’ll be in the arena in 72 hours. Training today, then the session scores tomorrow and interviews the day after. The morning after the interviews we’ll be flown to the arena and the fight to the death will begin. Etta strolls in, eating some kind of pink fruit I’ve never seen before. He smiles at me before pulling out the chair next to me and sitting next to me. “So, skill sessions tomorrow and interviews the day after. What are you going to do?” He says, continuing to munch on the tiny pink berries. I look around the room, hoping that something will give me inspiration. “Um, well I guess… I suppose I could? Um…” Etta see’s I’m struggling and jumps into the conversation. He must have seen the plea for help in my eyes. “How about, for the interview, we go for tough. I know you’re pretty skinny, but you’re what? Almost six foot? If Gem styles you right you could get away with it.” He looks at me for an answer. It could work I guess? I’m better fed than most of the other tributes, but I still only have a small frame and a slim figure. I’m smart but I’m also overly sarcastic and fairly morbid. Not a good way to get sponsors. “What about going for intelligence? I was promoted to Dock leader back home. Usually you have to be much older for that to happen.” As I say the words I reach around my neck and fiddle with the tag hanging there. I haven’t removed it since Elysia gave it to me. Etta smiles. “That could work.” He looks at the tag. “And your skill session? What can you do that could help get you a decent score?” This stumps me. I don’t have a skill, unless you count programming stuff. Thanks to yesterday I know my toxic plants from my non toxic plants, well sort of, but it’s not much a skill. “I can throw knives” I lie. Well, I can. But I can’t aim. I’ll practice today. “Perfect!” Etta exclaims. “I’ll talk more about it tomorrow. You’ll be late for training you better go.”


	8. The girl with the sword.

When I had down to training, it’s obvious that it’s not just me trying to think of a last minute skill to show the Gamemakers. Kids are walking around aimlessly, trying out anything and everything they might have a knack at. I go straight to the knives and pick up a small silver blade with a rubber black handle. I throw. I miss. I repeat this about twenty times until I hit the target. Okay, so it’s the outside ring of the target, but I still hit it. I go to retrieve the knife when the girl from twelve sprints in front, steals the knife and throws it back at me. It skims my ear, chopping at the cartilage at the top and causing blood to trickle down my face and onto my neck. I’m definitely on their hit list. A supervisor drags the girl away yelling that she isn’t to harm her fellow tributes until inside the arena. Maybe she’ll be punished for it once the games begin and she won’t be my problem.

 

After lunch, I continue to throw the knives, with little improvement. I manage to get a bulls eye once out of the 400 odd throws, and there aren’t as many dents and scratches in the walls behind the target as the knife hits it more and more. I’m not expecting a miracle, but it would be nice to get above a three in training. Maybe it’ll be easier when I can’t see the girl from 2 swinging a huge sword around her head, while ever so often staring and laughing at me when I miss. I see Joshua sitting by the fire starting area, helplessly twisting two sticks together while the trainer looks on sympathetically.

 

I head back up to my floor and stuff myself on a meal of beef wrapped in a rich pastry with green sauce smothering it, with purple carrots and creamy cheesy potatoes. I’m about to declare I’m full when an Avox brings out a tray. My favourite chocolate cakes! I decide I may as well have two, as I’ll soon be starving in the arena. I go to bed completely stuffed and dream of home.

 

I wake once again by Oriana throwing my tunic at my head.

“Skill Sessions! Get up!” She shrieks before once again slamming the door. At least if I die in the arena I won’t have to cope with her squealing and shrieking at me for the rest of my life. Today we have the morning to prepare for our sessions with the game makers, then after lunch we’ll begin. One by one, each tribute will show a skill off to the gamemakers and they will give us a score on how much, or how little, we impress them. I reluctantly put on my tunic and drag my feet into the main room. My arms ache from all the throwing yesterday, but to stop Oriana shouting at me again, I sit myself down at the table and start gnawing on a fluffy white roll, sometimes dipping it in some hot chocolate which I think belongs to Etta, but he is reading and so doesn’t notice.

 

I head down to training with Joshua and he keeps he’s eyes to the ground.

“What are you doing as your skill?” I ask him. He keeps quiet. “I’m throwing knives. I learned yesterday.” He stays silent, fidgeting uncomfortably. “If you don’t want to tell me that’s fine but you haven’t said a word to me since we got here.  
“I don’t have a skill.” He snaps back. His cheeks flush red and he turns away, facing the wall. I don’t bother replying. Instead I place a hand on his shoulder, as my mother did on the morning of the reaping, but instead of accepting it, he violently pushes my hand away, catching my wrist with his sharp nails, drawing blood.

“Sorry.” He mutters. I lick the small trickle of blood seeping from my skin away. I decide not to attempt conversation again.

 

I spend the next few hours throwing knives at the tribute shaped dummy in the centre of the gym. The girl from two spends most of the time glaring at me, while occasionally slashing at the replicable targets, chopping them clean in half. No doubt she’ll get a 9 or 10. She’s strong, she has olive skin and dark hair, looking more like she belongs in District 12 than two, as her partner has blonde hair and blue eyes, and looks as though he should be in District 1. A strange pair.

 

When we are called for lunch, I throw my last knife and miss entirely, knocking any confidence I had straight out of my body. I pick at the lamb stew they present us for lunch, and nibble on an orange. I’m too nervous to eat. If I screw this up I’ll have no chance of sponsors, and I won’t be able to win them round with my bad attitude in my interview. About 20 minutes later, they start calling the names. Time ticks by as the first four tributes go in, followed by the girl from three, the boy from three, the girl from four, oh crap. The boy from four has just left. It’s me next. I decide not to drink my water either, I already feel like I’m going to wet myself.  
“Nemesia Audra, District 5” the robotic sounding woman calls my name. With a shaky breath I stand up and stiffly walk towards the door, which is now opening before me. Joshua once again says nothing, but I see him turn and stare at me as I leave out of the corner of my eye.

 

I walk into the gym, the gamemakers are all sitting on plush chairs, with tall glasses of blue or red liquid in their hands, some of them eating out of tiny ornate bowls. I’m glad they’re all paying attention. I’ve heard stories that they get bored easily and often give the tributes scores on how generous they were feeling, or how good the food they were eating was, rather than the tributes actual skill. I walk to the centre of the gym and state my name. I hear one of them whisper about my hair and how I ‘can’t be from District 5 with red hair!’. What about the boy and girl form 2? They don’t look like they belong in their Districts either.   
I wander around looking for the knives and find them near the back of the gym. After what seems like an eternity, I take my place centre stage with three knives in hand. I take a deep breath, swap one knife into my right hand, spin towards a target and throw. It whizzes past and hits the wall. Stupid! Why did I try and spin and throw at the same time! Obviously I was going to miss! I hear a gamemaker chuckle and a few comments about my aim. I take another knife in my hand and take my time aiming. I throw again. It hits the outer ring of the target.  
I smile to myself, at least it hit, right? I prepare to throw my last knife. I’m about to draw my arm back when I hear a cough.  
“That’s enough thank you.” A gamemaker calls from their balcony. Can they do this? My cheeks flood red like Joshua’s did in the elevator.

“Oh. Okay. I… thanks.” I stutter a few more words out before quickly leaving the room. It takes about 10 minutes of walking to realise I have the knife in my hand. “Oh! Shit.” I turn and see a peacekeeper guarding the door. I hold the knife out to him. “I forgot to put this back, I’m so sorry I didn’t mean anything by it. Am I in trouble? Oh God…” He takes the knife gently from my hand, places it in his belt and resumes his original position. I stand staring at him for a few seconds, then realise I’ve gotten away with it. I hurry to the elevator and whiz up to my floor before running through the apartment and slamming my bedroom door behind me and collapsing on my bed.

 

Etta shakes my awake gently. How long have I been asleep for? “Nem, time for the scores.” He whispers. Oh. Wait, Nem? No one calls me that. Not even my closest friends. It’s a family name, not to be used by anyone else. How dare he use that name. I turn and scowl at him.

“Don’t call me that.” I say firmly. The look on his face turns from kindness, to confusion.   
“I’m sorry Nem. Nemesia.” He says, before running his hand through my hair. This is getting uncomfortable. I push his hand off of me and jump out of bed. “I’m just going to have a shower I’ll be out in 10!” I say quickly before running into the bathroom and locking the door. What a creeper. Mental note not to be alone with this guy. I shower and change into some white silk pajamas before moving into the living room where Gem, Joshua, Oriana and the prep teams are waiting. I only just sit down before the national anthem plays and Caesar Flickerman’s voice rings out. How this young man of around 25 can so flawlessly host the games is something to be admired. He never says anything wrong, and always makes the tributes dazzle during their Interviews, no matter how dull or quiet they are.

I sit as he starts to call out the scores. Both from 1 get 10’s. The boy from 2 gets a 9. The girl a 10. Called it. Numbers keep getting called out, and then I hear “Joshua Thorne” he lets out a sigh and looks at the floor. “Joshua gets… 1. He must have had a hard time!” Caeser lets out a chuckle. Oriana does not. She smacks him around the head and he begins to cry. He was telling the truth when he said he didn’t have a skill. He must have just stood there. I’m pulled back to looking at the screen when I hear my name. “Nemesia Audra, with 5”. I feel relieved. I was certain I’d get a 2 or 3 for missing my targets. But they must have felt sorry for my District after Joshua only got 1 point. Luckily, my low number doesn’t earn me a smack on the head. Gem gives me a thumbs up and a grin from across the room. I did okay.

 

I collect a plate and fill it with food before heading back to my room to eat in solitude. I stuff myself on multicolored vegetables, a bright pink fish with a lemon sauce, and a fruit parfait with chocolate, how I love chocolate! Once I’m finished, I put the plate at the side of my bed; curl up into a ball and sleep.


	9. The Interview

When I wake again, I sit in my bed happy at the thought of not being dragged out kicking and screaming by Oriana to go to training. Then I realise that instead I’ll have to spend 4 hours with each tutor to prepare me for my interview. I put on a pair of soft trousers and a blouse, and some thick fluffy socks to keep my sore feet warm. Oriana bursts in and gives me a thirty-minute warning. I quickly drink some orange juice and eat some eggs with more red sauce and then meet Oriana in my room.

We spend four hours practicing how to talk properly, over pronouncing my words, chirping my sentences, trying to sounds more exciting than I was. She then makes me walk in these ridiculous shoes, with points on the heels that make my teeter as I walk. As if it wasn’t hard enough, she places two heavy books on my head, which repeatedly fall off as I trip in the heels. She spends most of the time screaming at me for being ‘improper’ or ‘unladylike’. In the Districts, walking right isn’t the most important thing on the list. Eating and surviving and being able to work is a little bit more important that pronouncing names ‘correctly’. Finally the mentoring session draws to a close. I kick off the heels and put my fluffy socks back on and go to get my lunch.

Afterwards I go back into my room to find Etta sitting on my bed. I call an Avox in to watch over us. I don’t want to be alone after his stunt yesterday. We spend most of the afternoon chatting, coming up with answers to questions that may not even be asked. I work on using the longest and most complicated words I know. By the end of it, he seems pretty happy. He reaches over and pats my thigh while congratulating me on my attitude turn around. I shake his hand off and stand up. I thank him and then leave the room. Gem is waiting for me in the living room with my prep team. They bumble around, looking overly exited but trying to contain themselves before one with magenta skin and metallic blue tattoos under her eyes can’t hold it in any longer. “Your dress is beautiful!” She shrieks, before clasping her hands over her mouth. Gem shoots her a look before her stern expression cracks into a large smile and she can’t help to agree with the pink woman.  
“She’s right! I can’t even be angry, she’s so right!” She chirps. She grabs my hand and drags me towards the glass table in the centre of the room before pulling her huge folder out of her bag and dumping it on the table like she did the first time I met her. She pulls out a a smaller plastic folder. Luckily, this time I see a figure that fits my own. Tall, but slim with no curves, and no broad shoulders or hips to fill out the dress. It looks like me. And she’s right. The dress does look beautiful. It’s floor length and silver. There are no sleeves, the silver material sits on the shoulders of the figure and drapes down to the waist, revealing some flesh in the centre before the skirt at the waist fills out the dress. The back is the same, two pleated pieces of fabric at the shoulders, falling down and joining at the waist, revealing the back. It’s sexy, maybe too sexy for me. But it is beautiful. “It’s metallic fabric, and the belt has diamonds on it so you’ll shine! You’ll be like a bolt of electricity! Wait. That is your District right?” I give her a soft smile. She asked me that already. I nod gently. “Thank you. It’s wonderful.” I say. Gem grins before the prep team seize me and pull me towards the door to get me ready.

After about an hour of plucking, smearing creams and makeup over my face, pulling on my hair and pinning it up into an intricate hairstyle, I’m presented stark naked, to Gem. She smiles again, I can see her shaking with excitement as the summons an Avox holding the dress. “Taa daa!” She almost screams with excitement. I try and act like I’m overwhelmed but really I just want tonight to be over with. The dress is even more stunning in person however, and I take time to thank Gem for her hard work. She helps me into the dress, adding the finishing touches like the diamond belt and a matching necklace, before brining out some glass heels. They seem to have a faint blue glow to them, like the glow of electricity running through a metal wire. I make a mental note to show them off to the audience, they’re truly beautiful. 

I take my place in line backstage. The rest of the tributes look… interesting. Some of the costumes look wonderful. They stylist from One has done an astonishing job once again. Their almost see through white and gold outfits sparkle as the move, as the capes did in the tribute parade. Their attractive figures and perfect features complimenting the also perfect outfits. The Tributes from 12 are once again, unlucky. They’re wearing frumpy black jump suits, like a coal miners suit, that have tried to be jazzed up by adding a few shiny black gems to the waist and around the cuffs. They look more embarrassed than any tribute here, pulling at their outfits and fiddling with their hair. One by one, we’re called onstage. I go 9th. I walk onstage, lifting my dress above my ankles so people can admire the shoes. I hear a few faint ‘Ooh’s and ah’s’ as the shoes let off a small glow. I give the audience a smile but don’t try to look to excited in an attempt to give off an air of intelligence and knowledge before I even open my mouth. 

I sit down and Caesar welcomes me. I hear cheers from the audience, but I can tell they are substantially quieter than the cheers for the Tributes from 1 and 2.   
“Nemesia! District 5! How are you” Caesar asks, half addressing me, half addressing the audience. “I’m fine. Thank you.” I say, not putting much emotion into the words.  
“Only fine?” Caesar asks. “What’s the problem Nem? May I call you Nem?” What is the problem?  
“Well one of my main issues that people keep calling me Nem.” I fire back. What would usually be insulting only makes Caesar laugh loudly, prompting the audience to join in.   
“So, you got a 5! 5 for District 5!” He says. “That’s a good score, congratulations.” I give a small thank you, but then begin to run one of the pre prepared answers. I paragraph about the score spectrum, how some districts are favored, how the different districts will obviously evoke other skills. This lasts about a minute and a half before Caesar cuts me off. He’s more aware of the three minute time restriction than I am.  
“Wow!” he exclaims. “We have a smart one her folks! That must be why you were promoted to Dock leader at 17 years old, is that right?” he asks. The question hits me with a pang of emotion as the audience Ooh’s at the achievement, even though they really have no idea what it means.   
“Yes. That’s right.” I said bluntly, wishing for the interview to be over. But Caesar continues. “So, Nemesia, if you get to go home, what comes after Dock leader? Mayor perhaps?” He laughs again, but the question sounded sincere.  
“No.” I say. He waits for me to continue but I don’t. Instead he jumps in.  
“Well, I’m sure being Victor is enough. Right ladies and gentlemen?” The audience lets out a huge cheer but my emotions stay fixed. Oriana must be beside herself with anger. I’m being so rude, so uncooperative. All those hours of coaching, wasted.  
“Times up! Thank you Nemesia Audra, District 5!” The audience let out of last cheer as Caesar helps me up form my chair and directs me towards the other side of the stage.

I sit and wait for Joshua’s interview to be over, he stutters and mumbles through the interview, and is visibly embarrassed when Caesar asks him about his 1 in training. As soon as he exits the stage he looks at me with tear filled eyes and heads towards the elevator. I join him, and as he does, when we get to our floor I head into my bedroom. I shut the door just as I hear Oriana sprinting towards me in her heels, screaming about manners and etiquette. I get in the shower and let the running water block her out. I don’t want my last few hours to be ruined by her lecturing me. In 12 hours I’ll be on a hovercraft on the way to my death. I stand in the steaming water for a long time, I don’t know how long, but I keep pressing different buttons, each one spraying or squirting some kind of gel or foam at me, each one smelling of something new. Lemon, rose, lavender, even pine trees. I enjoy these fresh smells as I know I’ll smell of sweat, mud, and finally the metallic stench of fresh blood in the arena. I wash my hair and let the shower dry my body and style my hair into long red waves that reach my waist. I’m tempted to ask an Avox to cut it all off, it’ll only get in the way. But I want my body to be recognizable when it goes home to my mother and father. I want Sebby to remember me as I was. I don’t bother going to retrieve dinner, instead I punch in my order into a panel on the wall, a rich tomato soup with white rolls and butter, and two molten chocolate cakes, which then appear in a metal box in the wall next to the panel, hot and fresh. If only food were this instant at home. I wonder have to spend hours walking round the market to collect the various things we need, and even the poorest could get food straight away. I finish my soup and cakes and decide to strip out of my interview costume and sleep as I did on the first night, naked. Able to feel the cool air and the sheets around me, savoring every feeling and every breeze on my body. I thought I would spend my night awake, worrying about tomorrow, but I don’t care now. I know I won’t go home so I let sleep take me.


End file.
